


Glistening Amber

by imleadinginmyhead



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Light Angst, M/M, POV Second Person, Pining, Reminiscing, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8458501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imleadinginmyhead/pseuds/imleadinginmyhead
Summary: Memories follow with scents and sentimentality. Sometimes, they they hurt more than the loss of warmth.





	

You miss him.

Of course that's the most under-exaggerated statement of the century. You have no right to miss him because you were the one to call it off in the first place.  You shouldn't miss him because, well, you both were at fault then. You didn't know how to let people you cared about just be themselves and live their lives. You only knew how to make robots that would work just like how you programmed. 

Humans aren't and never can be robots. You learned that one the hard way.

You should probably apologize again. You feel like you can't apologize enough for the way you ended things, for the way you treated him, for everything.

* * *

 

You work on various robotic parts, troubleshooting mainframes and patching up wiring on the back of Squarewave's head.  It's too hot to wear anything aside from your muscle-shirt with the amount of elbow grease the repairs are taking. You're fine with it though. Something about exerting your mind and body at the same time was some kind of therapeutic method of avoiding each and every dark corner of your mind.  

Eventually he starts back up and immediately challenges you to a rap battle. You smile bitterly, and roast him in three easy verses causing him to flash-step the hell out of there in defeat. You remember programming Squarewave to be easy to beat as a means to stroke your ego, but lately it just seems to be a reminder of how much you demand control. You just had to know what would make him stronger and make him fear a robotic version of yourself to stalk him in the woods. You just  _had_ to let your manipulative AI make up for the lack of communication you kept up with him. You showed him your worst and then demanded that he date you. With all of the plans you made, you knew he wouldn't say no. He never had a backbone then and would just go with what people told him or asked him.

It was nice at first. Affection was weird as hell to you. He never minded sticking himself in the crook of your arm or giving you an overly enthusiastic and occasionally kind of painful pat on the back. He would laugh off danger as he was about to get into it and always went in guns blazing as your backup. You kicked so much ass together, not a single denizen stood a chance against you two. You handled the up-close and personal attacks while he shot with killer accuracy in various movie poses. Once the enemies were taken out, you'd return to his side or he would walk to yours, saying something terrific about how you had the grace of a true samurai. His face would light up like a kid a Christmas and always be so positive. And that smile...

You shake your head and decide to take a legendary shower. Too much reminiscing isn't good for an overworked mind.

* * *

 

You step out of the shower and put on your orange and black pj pants. They're comfortable to be sure; you've spent many hours in these things at your computer talking with your friends. Speaking of which, you've been keeping so many ungodly hours working lately, that you've hardly even had the time to talk to any of them. With the world up and running, you have Wi-Fi and pesterchum working perfectly, but you just haven't used it. Normally when you'd check your messages at this time, there would be a quick summary of what everyone wanted from you from AR, but that abomination has been sent to who knows what godforsaken dimension of existence.

Your room is cold and you're not ready for the 2AM breeze and consider wrapping yourself in your blanket you have haphazardly tossed on your bed. You wander over, rubbing your forearm still sore from long hours of work. As you scan the room, you find a long sleeved shirt strewn on the ground, underneath a lot of your other clothes. Strange, you didn't have any long sleeves alchemized yet. When you reach down and pick it up, the dark green hue is caught in the moonlight. You stare at it in disbelief for a moment before tossing it on.

He had more of a torso than you so his jacket is one size too big for you. You don't care though, in fact you prefer loose fitting things lately. They aren't as uptight as you seem to be. You sit in your desk chair and pull the side of the collar up to your nose. You take a deep inhale.  It's a soft material and holy shit does it smell like him. It smells like a jungle and just a tinge of sweat. A bit of dirt on the cuff from the last time he strifed in it probably, or from his last adventure. You hug it closer to yourself and cross your arms across your chest, letting your eyes fall shut and fall into a dream filled sleep.

* * *

 

There is no more Derse or Prospit in your mind's eye so you seem to jump into replaying good or bad moments of your life. You are tormented by your mistakes and each "success" or "good thing" you have ever done is tainted with the knowledge of your own schemes or incompetencies. You dream of the time you asked him out and how he hesitated at first until you swayed him with some movie cheesy charm; even then he seemed unsure but of course you knew what was best for him then. You dream of the first time you saw his face fall in person because of you telling him he didn't do something good enough. You remember his texts becoming fewer and fewer, and how he invited you less and less to his world for his grand adventures. You remember hearing nothing from him and finding nowhere to run from yourself and nothing to distract yourself with. It was just you... and you. It was worse than hell because you were still alive. And then he comes flying in out of nowhere, rambling on about babies and looking happier -given mostly maniacal- than you've ever seen. You feel a raw fear and anger, honestly the most amount of emotion you had felt towards a single person in your entire life. You see how his smile falters for a moment and he says nothing as if he was a program that just received a command that it was unable to process.

You hurt him. He was better off without you, and honestly you deserved nothing more than living out your days in lonely misery so you couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

* * *

You wake up without moving a muscle, your eyes blinking out of the bleary trap of sleep. You're used to that bullshit cinematic replay of your mistakes by now.

However, you still don't know where the water on your face came from. You were pretty sure you dried your hair before leaving the bathroom. It probably just rained while you were sleeping.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick idea that popped in my head that I cranked out instead of writing a screenplay.
> 
> Song inspiration: Cold by Crossfade https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vrr3lRLjZ1Y


End file.
